


Medication Mambo

by anais_ninja



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek will always be Alexis Castle's violin teacher in my head, Gen, Major headcanon, Medication, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anais_ninja/pseuds/anais_ninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura Hale copes with the loss of her family and pack in her new home of Brooklyn, New York.  Derek, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medication Mambo

**Author's Note:**

> More of my Hale sibling headcanon. I think I need to start hunting for prompts soon though.
> 
> I'm still getting back into the fanfiction swing of things, so please be gentle with me.

There’s a rhythm to it.  _Push, twist, tip, push, twist, tip, push, twist, tip, blister pack, blister pack_.

Derek had tried to buy her a multi-day pill box, but Laura never would use it.  She measured out her meds, individually, twice a day.

It hadn’t been that hard to find a werewolf psychiatrist and a permissive pharmacy in New York that would let her double her prescriptions so that she could medicate twice a day.  Sometimes, the elevated metabolism could be a bitch.  But at 6 AM and 6 PM, Laura could do her little pharmaceutical dance, and manage to keep the depression and anxiety and guilt and panic to a dull roar.

She tried to get him to see the same psychiatrist or even a therapist—Brooklyn alone was full of them.  After about 10 disappointing first appointments, they silently agreed that Derek could be left alone with his feelings and violin.

Derek never tells Laura that the meds make her smell like sweat and burning.  He assumes she knows.  He can deal with it when she’s right there, the two of them together in the apartment, heart beats and breaths filling the space with life.  It almost smells more like a bakery then, like the gritty hipster kind down the street, where the guys don’t wear deodorant but the bagels are amazing.

 But when he’s alone in the apartment, it smells like Laura burned too.

 He can’t imagine what it would be like if he carried that scent around, exuding from his own body.  The world would be burning—his flesh, the subway car, his students, his instrument.  He does his best to stay in the practice rooms at school until he’s sure Laura will be home before he gets back from Manhattan.

Before they got the doses right, before the rhythm set in, Derek made sure to get home first.  He worried what Laura might do; felt responsible for it.  If he found her a sobbing mess in the bathtub, it was his fault.  And while he might deserve it—deserve to live forever with the consequences of his own stupidity—she certainly didn’t.

_Push, twist, tip._

So he listens to the little song.

_Push, twist, tip._

And he says, “how was your session?” twice a month.

_Push, twist, tip._

And he smells the sweat and burning.

_Blister pack._

And he avoids his own home.

_Blister pack._

And he watches his sister—his Alpha—come back to life and thrive.


End file.
